


Call and Answer

by jayyxx



Category: Baby Driver (2017)
Genre: Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, First Time, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rough Sex, Subdrop, darling ships it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 12:54:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15729813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayyxx/pseuds/jayyxx
Summary: Baby gets a hickey and Buddy is suspicious.





	Call and Answer

**Author's Note:**

> hi oh my go d this got out of hand. i'd like to say sorry to my mother and also jesus. title is a BNL song.
> 
> this was super fun for me cuz i love 1. sweet baby, 2. tuff baby (under appreciated) & 3\. GRIFF! (he's a good boy i promise) 
> 
> Baby & I are very similar bc we were both foster children, r hearing impaired and speak ASL. he means the world to me really.

If he’s totally honest, he doesn’t know how it started with Griff. 

Probably because Griff asked. That’s how it usually starts. 

Or maybe he called Baby “pretty,” or “sweetheart.” Any of those turn Baby into putty. 

And Griff is... wow. A lot. He’s different than any other person Baby’s ever been with. Maybe it seemed like a good challenge, maybe that’s why Baby took him on. He never would have thought it’d turn into _a thing._

Griff fucks like Baby is his last fuck of his life. He’ll admit, it was totally weird at first. The names, the demands, the _marks._ But it was something Baby had never had before, and he always liked something new every once in a while. 

He liked when Griff laid completely on top of him, he liked when he bottomed out -made his toes curl- and he liked when he stroked through his hair while calling him a pretty little slut. 

Sometimes Griff was too rough, but it was all worth it to have those marks afterwards. He presses his fingers into the bruises on his hips, around his throat, over his nipples, as he jerks off late at night with his good headphones on. 

That feeling was worth all the weird looks he got from the crew. 

“Hey Babe,” Darling started, “who tied you all up?” 

Baby doesn’t know what she means until she saunters over and strokes a finger over the bruise on his adam’s apple. 

He bit his tongue and filters through his ipod. “It’s nothing.” 

“What’s nothing?” Doc asks, appearing out of thin air at the perfect time to make this embarrassing. He sets his file down with a heavy bang at the end of the table across from Baby. 

“Baby’s got a—“

Baby steps on her foot. 

“—mark. Hey!”

“Baby?” Doc calls and curse his obedient nature, he looks. 

Doc gives everyone in the room a _look,_ before continuing. “What’s going on?”

He comes back to eye Baby. Baby blinks at him. 

Darling opens her mouth, but Baby is quicker. “I have a bruise.”

Doc “Huh?”’s.

“It’s really nothing.” 

Doc comes around to meet him. Under the table, Baby quickly switches the song from something sweet and lovey, to something with a rough baseline. 

Doc lifts his chin and looks over the mark. Baby hears Buddy hiss. Baby eyes Griff from where he’s sat two feet away, not helping at all. Maybe that’s for the best. 

“How’d you get that.” Doc mutters but it’s not a question, it’s a demand. 

Baby tugs his chin away. “I said it’s nothing.” 

“Baby you will tell me—“ 

“Oh leave the kid alone.” Griff stops him. “What he does in his spare time ain’t no deal to us. It ain’t gonna effect how you drive, right Baby?”

Baby shakes his head, still looking Doc in the eye. 

Surprisingly, Doc backs off. 

Over his panting breath, he sees Buddy looking at him, his mouth twisted, a worry in his eye. 

Baby looks away. 

 

-$-

 

If Buddy has suspected something before, his suspicion came to a halt the night he caught them. 

In his defence, they weren’t being particularly sneaky, but that was part of the vibe of fucking in your boss’s office. 

Baby _had_ been laying on the desk, his feet way in the air as Griff drilled into him, but Griff knew Baby liked more skin to skin than that, and had scooped him up like a rag doll, Baby’s knees tight around his waist, his fingers linked around his neck. This way Griff gets as deep as he likes, and Baby can cry into his neck happily. 

Griff palms his ass and drops him up and down. He’s muttering softly, grunting and kissing Baby’s neck. Baby is happy to let his eyes fall closed and get lost in it all. 

Well, he would have if he hadn’t noticed a figure moving through the warehouse through the open door of Doc’s office. 

Griff is facing away, so he doesn’t notice anything. Baby doesn’t say anything, but he tightens up, noticeably, to the point that Griff stops, pulls him away and whispers “W’s wrong?”

Baby thinks for a moment. He was probably just seeing things. It’s dark out there, and the small lamp lighting this room makes it hard for him to see. But then again, if there was someone, isn’t that part of the deal? The idea that they may get caught is fueling this whole interaction. Maybe there was someone, and they heard, and they’re watching. Or maybe they’d be daring enough to come in here, flick on the overhead lights and catch them. Or maybe they’d pet the sweaty hair from Baby’s eyes, drop their finger to his...

“Sweet’art?” Griff presses, and as if he read his mind, strokes the hair from Baby’s eyes. 

Baby just looks at him. “Harder.” 

Griff’s face breaks out into a devilish grin. The hoists Baby higher on his shoulder (so Baby has a better view outside the door, where a strange shadow is looming) and with a better grip, begins to pound him faster and faster and faster. 

The only sounds in the room are his partners grunts, a rhythmic slap, and his own familiar ringing — Griff doesn’t like him using his headphones while they fuck, and promised to fill the ringing with _other noise._ The ringing’s not over loud, so Baby guesses the promise has been kept. 

Baby almost can’t keep his eyes open, but he does. Just to see if maybe...

Baby tenses again as he sees the figure. Most definitely a person, moving towards the door. 

“Baby?” Griff slows again, digging his fingertips into his back. Baby hopes they bruise. 

Baby just gets tighter and tighter as the figure comes closer and closer. It’s a man, judging by the size, and tall, so chances of it being Doc is off the table...

Baby improvises. “I’m gonna come.” He pants. 

Griff pulls him back. 

“No!” Baby grips around his neck, still watching the door. “Right here.” 

Griff chuckles, placing him back against his chest. “What do you say, doll?”

Baby makes eye contact with the man in the hall as he mumbles “Please, Daddy.” 

Griff continues, grumbling about how good he’s taking it, and Baby hasn’t realized how the fear of getting caught had pushed him this close. 

Griff hits _that spot_ and Baby comes all over his stomach, his eyes still on Buddy’s. 

 

-$-

 

Now, Baby doesn’t let it get awkward. Buddy is a man Doc trusts. And Baby trusts Doc. Buddy’s no snitch. 

“Baby, go get us some coffee, eh?” Doc tells him, sliding his credit card over.

He ignores Buddy (and Griff) as much as he can, as they’re both eyeing him as he reaches for and pockets the card. 

“Anything special today?” He asks over the hum of Stealers Wheel in his ears. 

“Y’know what?” Buddy starts, standing and brushing himself off. “Let’s get it from that nice place over the bridge. Y’know, the one with those little blueberry pastries.” He smiles at Baby. 

Baby hopes his completely neutral face is enough to convey his discomfort. 

“Great.” Doc waves a hand. “Go with him then. Can’t have him getting lost.”

Baby fulls a face. Lost?

Buddy smiles. “No we can not.”

 

-$-

 

So yes the drive is awful, and not only because Buddy somehow got into the drivers before him, and now he’s in the passengers with nothing to do but flick through his songs, trying to drown out the horrible radio. 

The actual process of getting coffee from the “Nice Place” is very simple. A seven minute cruise and an easy drive thru order makes it all smooth. But Buddy seems to wanna take the long way back, and now they’ve been driving for a couple more than seven minutes, and Baby can feel himself overheating. 

They stop by the bridge as Buddy takes a long sip of his coffee. He turns down the radio, (now Baby can turn down his iPod,) then he sighs, and Baby prepares for the worst grilling of his life. 

“You being safe?”

... That’s it? A watered down version of the sex talk he never got?

Baby faces foreword and says nothing until Buddy turns to look at him. 

Baby nods. 

Buddy sighs into his hand, rubbing it down his face. “How old are you, Baby?” 

Drawing his eyebrows together, Baby looks over at him. Just slightly. “Twenty-two.” 

Buddy sighs again. He looks really beat up by this - almost like Baby’s the one asking him all the questions. 

“You ever been with a man like him before?”

Baby thinks on it for a moment and decides to be truthful. He shakes his head. 

Coffee forgotten, Buddy sits back in his seat. “That’s not how a man’s suppose to treat you.” 

That catches Baby off guard. He turns to look at Buddy. 

After a moment, “I like it,” Baby shrugs, “it helps. I have to stay focused.”

“Baby, I saw those bruises. Don’t matter if you like it like that, you still gotta be safe.”

Baby almost wants to roll his eyes. “I...”

“I’ve had my hands on enough creep’s throats to know what it takes to bruise like that.” 

Baby suddenly feels grossed out. “It’s my body, I can do what I want…”

“That’s not—“

“It’s not for you to decide.” Baby bites. 

Then feels bad, and looks at his shoes.

“You’re right, kid.” Buddy starts, “and that’s a good mentality to have, lemme’ tell ya.’” He shifts in his seat and Baby is ready for him to say he’s going to tell Doc, or he’s going to beat up Griff, or... “But what I’m saying, or, offering, is that the next time you need something like that, you come to me.”

Oh. 

Well that’s not what he thought he was going to say. 

Baby hopes his face doesn’t look as shocked as he feels. 

“What about—“

“Don’t worry about her.”

Baby turns in his seat to look him in the eye. “You’re cheating on her?”

“God no!” Buddy laughs. It breaks the air. “Have you seen her?!”

Baby has seen her. Why the fuck would Buddy say such a thing to him. _Him._ When he has her. 

“Baby...”

“You mean it?” He asks, his whole body ringing. Not just his ears. 

Buddy nods. 

Baby faces front. “Okay.” 

Buddy drives. 

 

-$-

 

Buddy startles him. 

He slams his bag on the table in front of Baby and Baby can’t help how he jumps at the noise. 

Then, Buddy tugs out a small, folded piece of paper. He slides it to Baby, commenting lightly, “for you.”

Baby blushes. He can feel Griffs eyes on him. 

He pockets the paper and nods at Buddy. 

And that’s that. 

 

-$-

 

It doesn’t matter how many times Griff calls him a slut, that still doesn’t make him one. 

Sure, he feels like one sometimes, and yeah, maybe he likes feeling like one. But only with Griff. He likes the way Griff demands to fuck back against him, or to bounce like he means it, or —his favourite,— to open wide. 

So yes, Griff makes him feel like a slut, but he feels particularly dirty calling him while Buddy’s number lies heavy in his pocket. 

That night Griff sucks marks into his inner thighs and Baby begs him to mark him above the collar, where Buddy can see. 

Griff puts him on his knees, on his back, against the wall, and all worries of Buddy float away and down the mental drain. 

 

-$-

 

Doc was the first to notice. 

(When Baby gets to begging, Griff has a hard time keeping control.) 

Baby has a small cut on his cheekbone from the lick of Griff’s ring. As Doc thumbs it, he is inappropriately reminded of the feeling of Griff’s hands on his face while he pulled him up and down on his cock. His jaw still aches. 

Doc tells him to be more careful, but as soon as he steps back, Buddy replaces him, and drags Baby out of the warehouse and into the back room by the elbow. 

Baby flaps obnoxiously as he tries to keep his balance as Buddy tugs him, watching everyone else in the eye them. 

With the door firmly closed, Baby fights the intense urge to hide and call for Doc. 

Buddy sinks back against the door while Baby stands in the centre of the room, vulnerable.

“You said it was for focus.” Buddy begins. 

“Yes.”

“This happened last night?” He gestures to Baby’s cheek. The marks on his thighs burn. He nods. 

“What did you need to be focusing on? The heist isn’t for a couple more days, you’re not even in the car until then.” Buddy tries to make sense of it. Baby looks to his feet. He finds he does that a lot when Buddy’s around. 

“Look at me.” Buddy demands and Baby can’t but follow. “Tell me.”

Baby shrugs. 

“Is he forcing you?”

Baby chokes. “No!”

“Then tell me what it’s really about.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Don’t deflect.”

Baby shrinks. “I’m all fucked up, Buddy.” 

Buddy sighs. The room falls silent for a moment.

“Baby, you are not fucked up.” He steps foreword. “You are not fucked up for needing something that’s not often advertised. It’s the same as needing a smoke, or a hit.” 

“That’s doesn’t make me feel better.” 

“So tell me why you need it, and I’ll make sense of it.” 

Baby covers his face. “It’s not just focus.”

Tipping his head, Buddy’s face conveys _duh._

“It’s discipline. And safety, and protection, it’s the only thing that gives me comfort.” Baby admits. 

Neither of them say anything for a while, but Buddy looks at him like he understands. They listen to Darling laughing and Doc talking through the door. 

“You don’t need someone to hit you, Baby. You need someone to take care of you.” 

That makes Baby’s stomach twirl. 

“And I know you don’t want me, but I—“

“I want you.” Baby chokes. 

Buddy’s eyes go wide for a moment, and he steps foreword into his space, placing a hand against Baby’s cheek and brushing the mark Griff left there. “I wanna show you how a real man takes care of something like this.” 

Baby forcibly keeps his head from sinking into Buddy’s palm. 

Buddy steps back, and tugs his hand along with him. “You will call me tomorrow night and I will meet you. That’s two days before the heist. You’ll be totally focused.”

And with that, Buddy leaves Baby alone in the room. He shuts the door behind himself, and Baby sinks to the floor, cranking his music and breathing choppy. 

-$-

 

‘What’s wrong?’ is the first thing Joe has said to him all evening. Of course, Baby had been making dinner, and hadn’t been paying attention to much of anything the whole day. Joe had to clap to get his attention. 

Baby shakes his fist, circled in an O at him; ‘nothing,’ and goes back to plating dinners. 

He carries it over to Joe, who’s sat on the couch tonight, giving his chair a break. Baby sits beside him, and happily digs into his chicken and rice. 

Joe’s TV plays some show about wedding dresses — on mute — while Baby’s record player spins some Stones. He skipped out on Doc’s today. They don’t need him anyways, and he’s been so antsy about Buddy, he didn’t want to see him against unless it was to potentially have him pressed against the wall. 

‘How do you know…’ Baby signs to Joe after he’s finished eating and their plates are put away. He thinks of how to put it. ‘When to call?”

Joe smirks. ‘Is this about The Boy?’

Ah. Yes. Joe thinks his _dates_ with Griff are _actual_ dates with an _actual_ potential partner. He’s suddenly filled with the though of having to introduce Griff and Joe. He shivers. 

Baby plays it off as a shrug. 

Joe seems to pick up on his destress and ruffles a shaky hand through his hair. Baby crawls forward and rests his head on his dad’s shoulder. Joe brushes over his shoulder and down his back a couple times. Baby’s phone feels heavy in his pocket. 

Joe pushes him back. ‘Call.’

Sucking his lip, Baby nods. Then he drags his hands down his face and pulls his eyes until they’re just white and eyelid, and Joe smacks him. 

Baby goes to call him. 

 

-$-

 

Even though he’s tucked in the farthest corner of his room, on the floor with his knees to his chest, his hand covering his mouth, he’s glad Joe’s deafness won’t allow him to hear how Baby whispers “I need it,” into the phone. 

God. How embarrassing. Buddy is making him blush. 

Buddy told him to come over. Which, uh… and also, hmm…

Buddy told him Darlings out of town, that she even changed the sheets before she left. 

Darlings probably not out of town, and she most definitely didn’t change the sheets for _this,_ but Baby agreed, and took down the address. 

And now he’s standing in the middle of Buddy’s bedroom, thumbs in his pockets, not knowing what to do with himself. 

“I got you a present.” Is all Buddy says when Baby starts to get noticeably fidgety. 

Baby turns and lets himself smile a little. “What do you mean?”

“Well...” Buddy smirks, and disappears behind his bed to pull something out of the bedside dresser drawer. 

It’s a speaker. 

“It’s not really like a _present_ present. I mean, you can keep it if you want, but I just thought...” 

Baby takes it and plugs his iPod into the cord. Instantly, The Supremes starts to fill the room. His headphone jack hangs lifeless at his belly. 

Buddy steps forward as Baby appreciates the speaker. He turns it over and over in his hands, feeling the vibrations. Buddy brings him back to reality by reaching up to gently pull Baby’s earbuds out of his ears. “This okay?” 

First his sunglasses —Buddy confiscated those at the front door— and now his buds. This is starting to feel just like how Buddy promised him it wouldn’t. Like it is with Griff. 

But Baby nods, and lets Buddy take the speaker and set it on the dresser with his buds. He just hopes he’s playing the right playlist...

Buddy comes back and stands in front of him once more. He comes closer and starts to push Baby’s jacket of his shoulders. Baby noses into his neck, inhaling his scent. Buddy runs a hand down his neck. “How do you usually start?”

Baby just gets right into it. “However you want,” and Buddy likes that attitude. 

Continuing to nose at Buddy’s neck, his arm come to wrap around his neck while the other plays with the soft skin of his abdomen. Buddy grumbles into Baby’s neck; “you want that off, Hun?”

Baby nods into Buddy’s neck. 

Stepping back, Buddy pulls off his teeshirt and throws it behind them. Baby’s mouth goes dry at the look of him. He wants to put his hands on him. 

Buddy turns him and pushes him back towards the bed. His knees hit the edge and he falls, scooting up the bed to make room. 

Growling and laughing, Buddy pulls off Baby’s shirt as well, kissing his chest as he climbs to bring it off his shoulders. 

“Ah,” he whispers once it’s off. “You pretty thing.” He runs a hand down Baby’s chest, and Baby wonders how he could ever say something like that and _mean it._

In response, Baby threads his fingers through Buddy’s hair. This doesn’t feel like how it does with Griff. He’s too much in his own head. 

He can hear his music, but he wishes he had his headphones. 

Buddy must feel his unease, for he stops his kissing and looks up at him. “Baby?”

Baby flushes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Buddy sits up, Baby still laying beside him. 

“It’s just…” Baby covers his face. “I need it rougher.” 

Buddy coos. “Oh honey,” he whispers, brushing Baby’s hands away from his eyes. “I know you do. I know.” And he kisses him. Nice and gentle on his mouth, and Baby realizes this is the first time they’ve kissed. 

Buddy takes the hint that he was going too slow, and his fingers crawl up to meet where they’re kissing, sliding between them. “You want my fingers, sweetheart?”

Baby keens. He nods, taking them into his mouth and sucking. 

This gets Buddy smiling. He tugs them away and shoves Baby up onto the bed with hands under his arms. He fiddles with his belt and tugs his pants free. They clammer to the floor, the sound ringing loud. Buddy quickly grabs a tube from the bedside dresser.

Buddy keeps his eyes on Baby’s face as he pulls down his boxers. Once he’s satisfied with how comfortable Baby looks (comfortable enough,) he eyes Baby’s cock. 

Turning his toes inwards, Baby wants nothing more than for him to touch him there. But he doesn’t. Buddy lifts his legs and immediately starts to lick his rim. Baby is _so_ glad he showered. 

His cock lays useless at his stomach as Buddy has his way with him. Baby had stretched a little bit before he came —he always did before Griff… stop. stop thinking about Griff…— and Buddy's fingers slipped smoothly in. Buddy moans and kisses his hip. 

“Did you do this already? Huh?”

Baby nods, his eyes blurry. 

“Oh sweet boy.” Buddy beamed. “You really need a cock in there, don’t you?” 

He’s starting to feel that familiar buzz he was looking for. Took a while to get there, but the feeling is intense, and they haven’t even done anything. Buddy’s words drip sugar sweet down his spine and he nods. 

Buddy hums, wanting more of an answer. He digs is fingers against Baby’s walls. 

Baby grounds himself by twirling his hands in the sheets. “Yes, sir.”

“You want me to fuck you, Baby?” 

Baby doesn’t know if he’s using his name or a pet name. “Yes, sir.”

Buddy curls his fingers. “You want my cock in you while you’re still all tight, huh? Tell me.”

“I want you—“ he tries, his eyes stinging, “—I want you to fuck me, sir.”

“Okay good boy. Okay.” Buddy grins, his fingers opening and closing a couple more times in rapid succession, watching Baby’s head roll back. 

Buddy lines up, and Baby looks down at him nervously. He hadn’t sucked him off, so he doesn’t know how big he is, or what he’s dealing with. 

Buddy tips his head up to look him in the eye. “I’s okay, honey, focus.” 

Baby looks him in the eye, his mouth falling open and breath hitching as Buddy drags inside him. “Oh God.” He says on an exhale. 

Buddy chuckles. “Good?” 

“Fuck me…” Is all Baby can think at this point. Buddy smiles, draws Baby’s knees up and folds him in half, and starts up a steady pace. 

He gets that feeling — the one he’s searching for. Where his eyes go blurry and head goes fuzzy, to the point he can’t hear his ringing. His legs go numb by his ears and he can only feel, feel, feel. 

Buddy’s rhythm follows the beat of the song. He can feel it in his bones. 

Buddy lets out a constant stream of consciousness on each thrust. “Go-od b-oy Ba-by.” He cries. 

Baby enjoys the buzzing in his head for a moment longer until Buddy grabs his cock. He jolts like he’s been electrocuted, his forgotten cock springing into action as Buddy pumps him. 

The blood in his ears roars, and feels so overwhelmed for a moment he has no idea where he is. Buddy sucks a mark into his neck, his fingers squeezing his hip…

Baby comes almost automatically. 

“Oh!” He cries. “Oh my God…”

Buddy is smiling at him. How could he? Baby just… 

“I’m so sorry.” He babbles between thrusts. “I’m sorry sir, I’m so sorry.” 

Realization dawns on Buddy’s face, and he’s not smiling anymore.

He draws out, and arranges Baby so that he can pull him into his lap. Baby can barely move on his own, so he curls into a ball and lets himself be held. 

“Baby…” Buddy wipes under his eyes. He hadn’t realized he had been actually crying. “Why are you sorry?”

Baby presses his face into his neck, holding him with arms looped around him. “I’m not suppose to.” He’s so out of it he doesn’t realize how stupid he sounds. 

Buddy shifts him. “Honey, we didn’t make any rules; you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Baby says nothing, just presses closer. 

“But thank you for apologizing.” Buddy acknowledged. Baby is so happy Buddy understands. “And you tell me if you think you need to be punished.”

Biting his lip, Baby doesn’t respond.

“Do you need to be punished?” Buddy asks. 

Baby doesn’t know. He didn’t disobey, but he doesn’t feel good about it. 

“Do you _want_ to be punished?” 

That, Baby can answer. He lifts his head just enough to mumble — “Yes Daddy.” That sets Buddy into motion as a shiver visibly runs threw his body. 

“Get on your knees.” 

In high school, Baby had to take a yoga class as part of his gym requirement. He remembers Child’s Pose as being his favourite. 

Baby flips over and sinks into the pose, his belly between his spread knees. Buddy sinks into him again with a long slow drag, making baby cry out. 

“Count.” Buddy demands and Baby shivers at whats coming next. 

Buddy’s hand smacks his ass three times in quick succession. The song switches the something with a riffing guitar. Baby backs against it. Buddy is loosing rhythm. 

He smacks him a couple more times, and Baby lies down to take it. Soon, Buddy is groaning, panting above him. “Baby-boy, I’m bouta’ come…” 

Baby’s heart bursts. “Come on, Daddy,” he whimpers. 

And with that, Buddy buries himself to the hilt and comes. 

 

-$-

 

Baby came twice more that night. He’d never felt that floaty feeling for so long. Even as Buddy cleaned him up, gave him a sip of water, a slice of toast with butter, he still felt like he was gone. 

As soon as his earbuds were put back in place, he was out like the lights. 

When the woke, he left Buddy and went home. It was only a little after midnight, and Joe was fast asleep when he got in.

He didn’t sleep. 

Instead, he fell asleep on Doc’s couch the next day, and slept most of the day away, he only woke up once — to the feeling of Darling kissing his forehead — and he went home early. He stayed in that strange floaty space all day. He doesn’t even remember seeing Buddy at all the whole day. Maybe, he’s okay with that. 

 

-$-

 

With his earbuds in, he feels more clearheaded than he’s ever felt. He hears Doc’s plan, taps along to song he thinks he could learn on the guitar pretty easily if he tried, gets coffee but doesn’t drink any, and is _itching_ to drive. 

They each carry a bag down to the car lot while Baby carries his pink iPod. He’s got the perfect playlist for today, and is happy to report he is, in fact, in a pink and sparkly mood. 

Doc squeezes his shoulder and tells him to “take care of them.” He says it every time, like rubbing a lucky charm. As he slides into the car, he hears the other half of the charm, telling the others to take car of “his Baby,” and Baby smiles. 

Griff slides in beside him while the duo pack the trunk of the car. 

Baby stares forward, but Griff is still looking at him. Baby wants to turn and ask why, but then, Griff reaches over, and touches his neck. 

Confused, Baby tips his head and cranes to see his neck in the rearview mirror. He has a very faint hickey below his ear. He didn’t even notice it. He covers it warmly with his hand.

When he looks back over to Griff, he’s surprised to see he’s wearing a soft smirk. “Pretty girl?” He asks. 

Baby is thankful for that. He nods, sheepishly. 

Griff leans closer. “What was her name?” 

“I don’t…” Baby sucks in a breath as the song in his ears changes. “I don’t even remember…” 

Griff bellows a laugh. “That a’ boy!” 

Baby chuckles at his reaction. Griff pokes him again. “Awh, it’s so cute and wittle.” He sings. “She musta been real gentle with you.” 

Buddy and Darling slide into the seat behind them. Buddy leans over to ruffles his hair, another tradition. 

_Yeah,_ he thinks, _he was._

**Author's Note:**

> i was slightly embarrassed to post this and yes this fandom is dead but EH> IS IT WAT IT IS. also i don't know how to use semi colons. my eng prof is crying somewhere about it.
> 
> im gonna go now. 
> 
> thank you for clicking, kudosing and commenting. ur super cute!  
> visit me @ [ghostcas](http://www.ghostycas.tumblr.com) on tumblr if u wanna


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